Dual System: Ascension of A Nameless Nobody

Chapter 95 Maverick King

"...I need it, Maverick–I'm sorry, too."

"It's like that, then?" Maverick rolled his shoulders, exuding a slow, drawn-out breath, "...This is something neither of us can back down from. Something that has to be done. Yeah…I don't have any room for mercy right now–so don't blame me for what happens next."

With immense speed, unfitting for the man's stature, Maverick appeared in front of him, unleashing a swift jab of his massive gauntlet aimed directly for his head.

Luckily, his heightened senses allowed him to slip beneath the jab, honing his eyes on the figure before him.

Complimentary of his assassin-class proficiency, he began to be able to see the weak points of his foe, even if they were human; the most optimal approach for attack that presented itself to him was going for the man's sturdy jugular.

As he flipped his daggers into a reverse grip, he was stopped just before the tip of his dagger could reach the man's veiny neck, feeling his senses scream at him as a massive wind pelted against his right side.

He immediately jumped back, looking forward to see that massive spike in his senses came from the fact Maverick was countering with an unseen haymaker.

Against the empty air, the tall man's gauntlet-clad fist unleashed an explosive force that would've surely resulted in his swift demise.

Maverick only looked up, matching his gaze with utter conviction; there was no doubt about it–this was a duel to the death.

"Let's not play any games," Maverick said quietly, "...We've both got friends to save; let's make this quick."

It was easier said than done, however; Maverick King was a whole three levels higher than him, and obviously in better condition–it was an uphill battle, to say the least.

Still, he obliged, sinking everything he had into this conflict as he reactivated [Sage Period], knowing that a single direct-hit would be his swift retreat into a grave.

This time, he took the initiative, using two successive [Blink Steps] to throw off Maverick's trace of him before swinging his daggers against the air from a distance.

"Twilight Cutter"---! He invoked.

The wild, purple slashes of vicious energy propelled towards Maverick, carving through the marble flooring as the dark-skinned man raised his gauntlets to shield against them.

"Grrgh–!"

Maverick roared out, being on the receiving end of a continuous barrage of the rangeless slashes before unleashing his guard, spreading his arms as he repelled the slashes with his sheer physicality alone.

It was an unexpected, uncalculated move of pure, raw strength as he was now being rushed at by the swift, much more powerful man.

He was put on the defensive immediately as Maverick unleashed a combo-attack of jabs, crosses, uppercuts, and haymakers.

"I was the undefeated heavyweight champion of the world in boxing," Maverick told him sternly while thrusting his gauntlets towards him with bleeding precision, "...I'm telling you this because I want you to know who killed you."

He wasn't able to reply to his words as he was solely focused on evading the massive thrusts of the man's fists, having to drop down to the ground as his senses kicked off–narrowly avoiding an explosion that emitted outwards from the metallic knuckles of Maverick's gauntlets.

"--Volatile Knockout," Maverick said quietly, "...Would've been a painless death; never would've realized you were dead."

Still, he couldn't speak as he was delved deep into the battle of life-or-death, picking himself up immediately as he spun on his hands into a series of helicopter kicks that stirred up a powerful wind against the boxer.

He was pulling out everything he had–anything he could use against the seemingly insurmountable foe.

All of the kicks resulted in null as his rapidly spinning legs were stopped by the heavyweight champion grabbing onto his left ankle, picking him up and roaring out before throwing him.

"Grk…!"

The strength beyond the malicious toss propelled him wildly towards the wall, but he managed to flip himself around and use the quartz wall as a foothold to launch himself directly into battle again.

Maverick was caught by surprise by his agile tenacity, being subject to what came next:

"Black Ripper–!"

[Spirit: -200. Remaining Spirit: 700/3500]

Knowing full well that he faced a man of a sturdy foundation, he didn't hold out; each of the dozen cuts were aimed for the boxer's vitals, slashing at his arms, Achilles' tendons, and neck.

Though Maverick managed to guard his neck–that was expected by the assassin.

Thanks to his assassin-class intuition, cultivated by his Sage System's ability to raise his proficiency, he knew to target the strongman's tendons on his arms, slicing them deep with a burst of dark energy left in the trail of his blades.

"Greugh…!" Maverick winced.

He rolled past the boxer after finishing the assault, huffing as the strain on his body caused him to hack up blood once again.

–A success.

As he turned back to face Maverick, who was attempting to throw a fist against his skull, the large, foreign man's arms suddenly went limp at his sides as blood spurted from his sliced tendons.

"Grrgh–! I can't…move my arms!" Maverick called out in pain.

While the platinum-haired man was left stunned at his inability to lift his arms, he took advantage of this, picking himself up to his feet as he rushed towards the man like a merciless predator, yelling out with his daggers in hand.

…I'll kill him…! I have to! I have to do this! I have to do it–! He repeated in his mind ad nauseum.

Again, he aimed both of his daggers towards both sides of the man's neck, going for a quick, clean finish as desperation coated his dense breaths.

Squelch.

–A miss.

Neither of his daggers had sunk into the neck of the well-built boxer, but rather, at the last moment, Maverick lifted his burly shoulders up, allowing the blades to stab into his shoulders as they sank in deep.

"Wha…?" He muttered in disbelief at the unorthodox move.

Maverick breathed heavily with eyes bloodshot with strain and agony as he reared his head back, "This ain't over yet…!"

As he realized the man was going for some sort of counterattack, he attempted to unsheathe his twin daggers from the man's flesh, but was unable to tug them out.

What…? Why…?! He questioned.

Looking at the state of Maverick King's arms, he realized what was going on: the man's dark-brown skin was flexed, protruding with veins as they were being squeezed with his utmost strength.

…He's holding the daggers in by clenching his muscles?! He realized.

Without knowing what was coming, he deactivated [Sage Period] purely by reflex of knowing something would land in the next moment.

Before he could react further, he looked up just in time to find the man's forehead slamming against his own with a concussive, skull-throbbing impact that resounded throughout the vast, empty domain.

It split his forehead open like a melon, spurting out blood that trailed down to his eyes as his vision became drenched in red.

"Gkk…!"

[Health: -300. Remaining Health: 240/3200]

He stumbled back, letting go of his daggers as they were left lodged in the muscular shoulders of his fatal opponent.

All he could see were stars as his sense of balance was thwarted, focusing everything he had on trying to stay upright as his feet constantly moved, intertwined and getting mixed up as he swayed side-to-side.

Luckily, his opponent was hardly in any position to try and pursue him as Maverick breathed heavily, standing with limp, unusable arms and daggers embedded into his flesh.

He finally managed to compose his balance, but his vision was swirled by his own blood, finding the strength in his body fleeting as he ran through both flashes of bitter cold and uneven warmth.

"Heh…What's an assassin without his blades?" Maverick laughed weakly, "...I don't need my fists; my head will do, if not, then my legs, if not…then my teeth!"

The last words from Maverick were yelled out in a roar as he began to run towards the dizzy assassin with bloodshot, malicious eyes.

However, the boxer learned something in the next moment:

Jeong-Hui was not just an assassin.

A sharp, spinning kick executed with fifty-percent luck, and fifty-percent perfect execution resulted in the heel of his boot slamming against Maverick's sturdy chin, causing the injured, half-dead man to stumble to the side.

"...Huh? The hell was that?" Maverick asked quietly, spitting out blood.

He barely managed to balance himself after unleashing the kick, but did so through sheer force of will as he breathed out calmly to steady his rapidly thumping heart.

No response poured from his lips as he simply met the gaze of Maverick with his resolved, emerald irises.

The "luck factor" of the spinning kick came from the fact his vision was encumbered by the blood that seeped over his eyes, and the swirling nature of his sight, taken by his concussed brain. He only managed to hit his target with the assistance of his Sage System, optimizing his hearing as he used the percussion of Maverick's footsteps to time his counter perfectly.

…No matter what…No matter the cost…I'll save those close to me…He thought.